Kataki: A Novel of Revenge by Hank Searls

Author:Hank Searls [Searls, Hank]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Silvertail Books
Published: 2024-05-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Matt Bancroft was very cold on New Year’s Day.

Last night at midnight, temple bells all over Japan had pealed, one hundred eight times, in the joya no kane ceremony to welcome the new year. Now a biting wind slashed Tokyo from the northwest, swirling dust and ashes in the streets and forcing the beggars into subway stations. In the air was the threat of rain. Few Japanese in Tokyo had the food, sake, or beer to celebrate the New Year, except yakuza gangsters and black marketeers.

This morning Matt squatted by the litter that he and Hashimoto had erected of scrap-lumber to keep Mickey-san’s futon off the damp tatami mat. His sensei had spent a feverish night, thrashing and turning in the freezing, drafty hovel.

Matt himself was ill. Along with half the people one saw on the street or in the subway stations, he wore a flu mask; many, in this time of shortages, wore a simple kerchief pulled over the mouth and nose.

His mentor seemed asleep, but Matt knew that he was not. He felt his brow. Even to his own feverish palm, it seemed hot. They had no thermometer, nor any aspirin. Hashimoto had gone out to try to steal a lump of charcoal from a taxi: the doctor up the alley had suggested that, dissolved in water, it would help Mickey-san’s diarrhea. Looking at his foster-father in the dim light of the sleeping room, Matt doubted that the major could get it down.

Mickey-san’s eyes were suddenly open, bloodshot and bleary. His eyesight had stopped improving. The doctor, who had two other patients from Hiroshima in his practice, seemed to think that he was doomed.

“Lorna was here,” he whispered in English. His voice was hoarse.

“Yes, sensei,” Matt muttered, startled.

Oh, Mama, help me now . . .

“She said . . .” Mickey-san shook his head and tried to smile. “Dreaming,” he decided. “I loved her. Did you know that?”

“Yes sir.” He dipped a cloth into their water drum and laid it on Mickey-san’s brow. “Everyone did. And loved Alicia, too.”

Mickey-san smiled. “When your father died, I would have married her.”

More, then, had been between them than he’d known. Though surprised, he didn’t care. He touched his mentor’s arm. “She would have made you happy, sir.”

“And I would have adopted you. There is nothing now to leave you, but you would be my son.”

“I am your son, sensei.”

Mickey-san peered at him in the feeble light. “Then follow my path.”

“If I can.”

“Do you think of General Sumi sometimes?”

How could he have known? “Well . . .When I read of those veterans’ societies, I wonder if somewhere he fights on.”

“He and his kind are death. Choose life! Build, Matt. Do not destroy.”

Matt bowed deeply but said nothing. He could hear Hashimoto drawing aside the panel they had propped at the entrance: without hinges, or a proper shoji, they had to make do with a plywood sheet for a door. It was probably the most valuable possession on the property.

The stocky ex-soldier entered. He seemed disturbed.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.